


Gather Your Party

by Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw



Series: October Ficlet Challenge [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 21:45:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12241212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw/pseuds/Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw
Summary: Clara Oswald and her team of dungeon-crawling heroes stop for a drink in the local tavern.Prompt: Fantasy AU; pairing: Twelfth Doctor/Clara OswaldPrompt and beta by imaginary_golux





	Gather Your Party

“The look on that orc chieftain’s face when you stabbed her in the back,” Saibra says with a grin, toasting Clara’s success in their last outing together. 

“Priceless,” the young rogue agrees as the shapeshifter imitates the orc’s dying face--perfectly, of course. She leans back as Rigsy, the mage of their group, recounts another favorite moment. 

Clara jingles the coins in her pouch, and she is focused on the chiming as music begins to play as if in time. That draws her attention completely away from her friends. It’s just a single guitar, but the melody is strange, unearthly. The others can feel it too, she senses. She turns--slowly, subtly--to face the bard. 

She tries not to gasp. Although the man’s hood conceals his face, his eyes burn into hers, bright and uncanny. Well. Like hell she was going to back down, she decides, and keeps her eyes on the bard until he finishes his set. 

“That was some playing,” Rigsy notes.

“Yeah,” Clara agrees, standing, knee a little shaky. 

“You fancy him,” Ashildr teases her.

Clara ignores the barbarian as she approaches the hooded man. She can see him now: face lined and hair grey, but eyes young and bright, almost...playful? Some fae blood in his history, no doubt. That would explain the strange charm of his songs. 

“If you’re looking for someone to join your ragtag adventuring party, the answer is no. I also don’t take requests. Nor do I play at children’s birthday parties.” 

Clara meets his glower with a flirty smile. “Guess it’s a good thing I just want to buy you a drink.”

The bard’s sallow cheeks flush, but he follows her to the bar at the back of the pub. Clara is painfully aware of the whistles coming from her party’s table. “Are you sure you want to be seen with a withered gray stick insect like me?”

She sizes him up for the first time: old, yes, but probably with a longer measure of life if he’s a little bit fae, and no less handsome for it. That voice, of course. And something she can’t quite identify. “Yeah, I think I’m okay.” She grins and settles down next to him as the barmaid sets down two pints of ale. “Cheers.”


End file.
